


Finding Family

by stelladora



Category: BioShock
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelladora/pseuds/stelladora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jack rescues Atlas from Fontaine, the two initiate a program to return Rapture's citizens to the surface. Meanwhile, Jack endeavors to reunite Atlas with his wife and child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Family

“G-grab Ryan’s genetic key…! Now w-would you kindly put it in that goddamn machine?!” Atlas’ voice shook as he spoke into the radio. He watched the screen in front of him, the security footage of Jack pulling the key out of Ryan’s bloody jacket and slamming it dutifully into the override. Now it was all over. He’d done it. The sirens stopped, and Atlas heard a laugh behind him before he was pushed aside, out of the chair.

“Nice work, boyo!” Frank Fontaine said enthusiastically, drunk with euphoria as he spoke to Jack. He soon dropped the mocking Irish accent. “It’s time to end this little masquerade…”

Atlas watched with horror as the _Ryan Industries_ sign changed to that of _Fontaine Futuristics_. He’d done it now. He’d let Fontaine get everything he wanted. This bastard would claim Rapture, everything they’d all worked so hard for would be in the hands of this terrible man. _Time for courage, Atlas, old boy_ , he thought to himself. “Jack, it’s all a trick!” he screamed, in a last-ditch effort, lunging at the microphone. Fontaine grabbed him by the throat, holding him in a firm grip, restricting his breathing until he gasped and spluttered. Security bots flocked to Jack on the screen, the two men locked in parallel peril at the hands of Fontaine.

“You listen here,” Fontaine growled. “You know our deal. You’re going to help me get what I want, and in return, I won’t throw you to the splicers. I’m sure they’d jump at the chance to rip apart the man who left them in the lurch when they needed him most.” He eased up his grip on Atlas’ throat, allowing the man a little more air. “Now, I’m going to kill this idiot, and then we’ll get back to our usual business. But just in case…” Atlas flinched as he saw Fontaine’s fist coming toward his head, and he blacked out soon after the contact.

When Atlas awoke, he recognized the coffin-like holding cell under the floor of the tower in Point Prometheus where he’d been locked up numerous times before while waiting for Fontaine to force him into his next plot. All he could do was hope that Jack would somehow, miraculously, pull through.

Previously, when Fontaine had locked him up here, it had never been for very long. A few hours, at most. They worked fairly closely, much to Atlas’ horror. _I’ve been so fuckin’ stupid. Thinkin’ he would really let me go, after all this. What would I even do if I were free? How could I go about facing anyone now?_ Left alone with his guilt and the gag in his mouth, unable to move in the cramped space, Atlas resigned himself to waiting. Either Jack would come, or Fontaine would have need of him again for some other scheme. _I won’t help him anymore. I’ll die first,_ Atlas resolved.

* * *

 

He hadn’t bothered trying to figure out how long he’d been stuck down in the crawlspace Fontaine kept for him and other helpless souls. He’d heard the man communicating with Jack via radio; he knew that the mind control spell had been broken, and that Jack was coming. _This guy’s either psychotic enough to try and get revenge, or he’s got the most sterling moral compass ever forged. Wonder if ol’ Mother Goose had a hand in that._ Such thoughts idly flitted through Atlas’ mind as he waited. He’d learned it was frustrating to try and occupy his mind in times like this; it just made him claustrophobic and anxious. And as wonderful as it would be for Jack to show up as a knight in shining armor, Atlas forced himself to not count on it. False hope only made things harder. He knew that now.

He was stunned, then, when Jack did appear. He heard Fontaine whipped up into a rage, and a sinking feeling of dread swallowed Atlas’ stomach as he waited, helpless, to overhear Jack’s death.

The battle between the two men seemed to go on for ages. Fontaine had made himself a monster, something beyond a splicer’s wildest dreams. There was no way any man, even a genetic cocktail like Jack, could best him. However, Atlas noticed the unusually heavy footsteps above him, much different than what was normal for a man Jack’s size. What the _hell_ was going on? And now lighter footsteps, and many more of them. Atlas strained his hearing, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on. Were those… _children’s voices?_ Atlas kicked at the ceiling of the crawlspace, hitting it with any part of his body he could, trying to make enough of a racket to be heard. He screamed against the gag in his mouth, praying that he wouldn’t be delivered into an even worse custody. _Then again, who the bloody hell could be worse than that Fontaine bastard?_

A gunshot sounded close above him as the lock of his prison was shot off. The trapdoor opened, and Atlas closed his eyes against the unfamiliar light. Enormous, cold hands lifted him up and tugged at the gag. Atlas wrestled his head free, blinking as he looked out at the chaos about him. At least a dozen little sisters, the grotesque corpse of Fontaine, and…

“Jack…what the hell have they done to you?” The hulking metal man before him looked worse for wear, to say the least. But he was alive. He’d done it. Jack smiled wanly through the small window of the suit, and Atlas decided explanations could wait. He turned to the girls crowded around them. “Which one o’ you knows the quickest way back to Tenenbaum?”

The girls led the way, scrambling through the secret places of Rapture, back tunnels and abandoned sectors. The whole journey, Atlas stayed by Jack’s side, holding onto him as best he could, hoping the young man didn’t fade to quickly. “There you go, boyo, we’re not long now.” Any time Jack would begin to speak, Atlas would gently silence him, giving him words of encouragement and telling him to save his energy. He was terrified by the low growls that had replaced recognizable speech. _Tenenbaum, you’d better know a way to fix this._

* * *

 

“Mister Atlas! He’s awake now!”

Atlas practically jumped up from the chair he’d been occupying in a corner of the main room at Tenenbaum’s “Sanctuary” and ran to Jack’s bedside. Amy and Susie followed him, and soon began whispering to the others about their big brother. It had been several days, filled with stress, arguments, and some of the least ethical medical practices he’d ever seen. Tenenbaum had come through, however. Jack was, she theorized, back to human.

“It should have not been this way. He should have been permanently in that suit. Must be something to do with his genetic predisposition to self-preservation and healing…” Tenenbaum had muttered to herself at one point. She didn’t bother explaining herself to Atlas, and he didn’t mind it. She could do whatever mumbo-jumbo she needed, as long as she saved the kid.

She was already hovering over Jack when Atlas entered the room. “Ach! Here he is. I should have known you would follow like little puppy dog.” She turned to Jack, speaking to him as he looked up at her, weakness evident in his face. “These past three days, he has said nothing to me other than asking about you. Always lurking, asking me stupid questions—”

“Yeah, and you never gave me a straight answer! Why the hell did ya do this to the poor kid? Make him into one of those nasty ol’ things? I thought you’d deconditioned those kids o’ yours!”

“Process takes time, my little ones were not ready—”

“Atlas.”

Jack’s voice, rough and weak from the modification earlier, cut through their argument and arrested both their attention. Atlas took a few steps closer to Jack’s bedside, feeling a flutter in his stomach. Jack had every right to be furious at him, but he couldn’t read the emotions on the young man’s face. “Yeah, boyo? You feelin’ okay?”

Jack just stared at him for a second, as if studying him. There was something sad in his eyes, Atlas noticed. Finally, as if after struggling to find something to say, Jack spoke. “I’m sorry about your family.”

Atlas let out a small laugh. That hadn’t been what he expected. The two of them would clearly need to have a talk soon and get all this settled. “They weren’t ever in that sub. Nobody was. Just another o’ Fontaine’s damn tricks he made me pull.”

“Yes, and why did you agree to these tricks?” Tenenbaum interjected. “I still do not trust you. I want you out of here.”

“Trust me, lady, I don’t want to be here either. The kid and I’ll leave soon as we can.”

“And who says you’re taking him? He isn’t well yet, and if anyone can lay claim to him, it is I,” she reminded Atlas sharply.

“I want to go with Atlas,” Jack spoke up. “If I’m well enough to.” The two men looked at each other, and Atlas wondered what on earth was going on in the other man’s head. As much as he hated to admit it, Tenenbaum was right.  Jack had no reason to trust him. And yet…

“Fine. Do what you will. I have other matters to attend to.” With that, Tenenbaum left the room.

“She’s right,” Atlas conceded quietly, pulling over the rickety wooden chair from the corner of the room. He set it at the side of the bed and sat down gingerly, hoping it wouldn’t break underneath him. Everything in Rapture was on the brink of collapse these days. “You’ve got no reason to trust me, after all I’ve done to you.” He was flattered that Jack wanted to go with him, of course, but at the same time he wondered how on earth it could be possible. Maybe a few of the kid’s marbles had rattled loose after taking too many hits from Fontaine.

“How much of it was a lie?” Jack asked, taking note of Atlas’ dejection.

“The stuff about Moira and Patrick, obviously. They never existed. Just some names off an old poster for one of Cohen’s loony pictures. Other than that… I was as honest with you as I could be, with Fontaine breathin’ down my neck.” Atlas’ voice faltered, memories of it all playing through his mind. “I’m supposin’ you’d like to know how I got wrapped up with him?” he added.

Jack nodded. “All those posters, everything I heard about you, was that all a lie too?”

“No,” Atlas said firmly. “When things went south around here, I did my best to help people. Fontaine was a crook, people knew that. All the smuggling, that ADAM stuff…behind all that philanthropy, something always smelled fishy. So…I tried to help. Tried to tell people that things would be alright in the end, that we should all just keep our wits about us and we’d pull through. Work together, like.” He scoffed. “Well, you can see why that got my in Ryan’s bad books. Pretty soon I was facing off with him, too.”

“What about Fontaine?” Jack asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“Fontaine…he got me a while back. Few months, at least, must have been. I was…on my own by then,” Atlas added quietly.

“So you did have a family,” Jack pressed.

“Yeah, once.” Before giving himself time to dwell on all of that, Atlas continued with his story. There would be enough time later on to discuss all that. “Fontaine’s men busted into where I’d been staying since the New Year’s Riots. Should have seen it coming. That goddamn snake in the grass, I should have known he’d only let me go so far—” Atlas’ voice had begun to shake, a mixture of anger and pure terror as the memories of how he’d been beaten and locked up came flooding back to him.

“Atlas?” Jack said, his voice brimming with concern. He reached over instinctively and covered Atlas’ calloused hand with his own. “You’re alright now, remember? He’s dead.”

Jack’s words were enough to pull Atlas out of his reverie. “Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. Did a lot of people a lot of good,” he mumbled. He stared down at his hand resting on his knee, with Jack’s covering it. The younger man noticed and blushed, pulling his hand away. “Anyway,” Atlas looked away, down at the dingy floor, “he forced me into this ‘long con’ o’ his. Said he could use me and in return, he’d…” Atlas struggled to find the words. It had been so long since he’d thought about this. _Come to think of it, he’s the first one I’ve told the full story to_. “He said he’d find a way to get people back to the surface. Out o’ this hellhole and back up to the light. …Shoulda known that was a lie. Just somethin’ he thought up to keep me there if the threats weren’t enough.”

“He threatened you?”

Atlas blinked and looked up at Jack. “No, not…not me. My wife and daughter.”

“So they aren’t…?” Jack asked, trying not to touch any nerves.

Atlas let out a mirthless laugh. “I don’t hold out much hope anymore. It’s been about a year, or just shy, since I’ve seen them. My wife and I had a…bit of a falling out. She said I should just keep my head down and not make trouble. I didn’t listen, so she took Cathy and…” Atlas ran a hand through his blond hair, not bothering to finish the sentence. “Haven’t heard word from them since,” he said bitterly.

“We can find them,” Jack said earnestly. “We could ask around, find out who’s seen—”

“I appreciate the sentiment, boyo, but I don’t think they’d be much interested in seeing me. Fontaine, when he kidnapped me, spread the word that I’d quit the business. ‘Given up on the dying Rapture and its diseased people,’ was what he said. And no one likes a quitter, do they?” Atlas sighed, mulling it all over in his head. _Even if they are alive, they wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as spineless as me._

“You’re not a quitter,” Jack reassured him. “You got me here. And I’m grateful to you, really. Ever since I stepped out of that Bathysphere—”

“I’ve tricked you and made your life a nightmare,” Atlas finished for him.

“You kept me alive,” Jack insisted. “Even if it was some trick of Fontaine’s, I’m sure that if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead.” There was a resolution in Jack’s voice that Atlas hadn’t heard before, and Jack furrowed his brow as he tried to get his point across, his voice scratchy but insistent. “I’ve never doubted for a second that you are a good person,” he added, more softly. “And when I heard him hurting you… I knew I needed to help you, the way you helped me.” Jack smiled, a crooked, endearing flash of teeth. “Even after everything, I knew you weren’t my enemy.”

Atlas sat in silence for a moment, turning over the young man’s words in his head. This was the first time in a long time that someone wasn’t hurling insults or bullets at him. It felt…nice. He nodded, unsure exactly what to say. “Thanks, kid,” he finally managed.

Jack just smiled again, then pulled back the thin blanket on the bed and swung his legs over to touch the floor. Atlas eyed him warily, uncertain if the young man would be strong enough to stand. Jack took no heed of his previous injuries, getting up quickly and crossing the room in a few short paces. He retrieved his wool sweater from the table and pulled it over his head, hiding the muscular, scarred torso that Atlas could discern from underneath the thin white undershirt. He stooped to tie his shoes and addressed Atlas from his crouching position: “What are your plans now? You said we were leaving,” he reminded him.

“I don’t know. I just want to get the hell outta here,” Atlas said, standing up from the rickety chair. “It gives me the creeps. All those said kids, lookin’  up at me with those damn big eyes o’ theirs…” Atlas’ face clouded over and he scowled.

“Do you not like kids?” Jack asked carefully as he straightened up. “I thought you said you had a daughter.”

“I love kids,” Atlas assured him. “My little girl, Cathy, is the light of my life. But, things being as they were, with me not seeing her, I started to think the worst,” he confessed. “I met up with Mother Goose here a while back, before all this hell started, asked her if she’d come across my Cathy in any o’ her sick experiments. You know what she said? ‘Ach, I do not remember,’” Atlas said, mocking Tenenbaum’s German accent. “How do you not remember something like that? How can you just _forget_? These are all people’s _kids_ , for Christ’s sake…” Atlas shook his head, his jaw clenched in anger. Jack decided not to press him too much farther. “How are you feeling, by the way?” Atlas asked, deliberately changing the subject. “I’m surprised to see you up and about so soon after being under the knife.”

Jack hummed, low and pensive as he took stock of himself. “I feel okay. I noticed, while I was making my way to you and Fontaine, that I never seemed to be hurt for very long. Probably something to do with the fact that I’m not…y’know, _human_ ,” Jack said sheepishly.

Atlas crossed the room and clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Be that as it may, you’re one of the best men I’ve met down here in a long while,” he said with a small smile.

That elicited a smile from Jack. “Same to you.”

“Really now? What does that say about you, that your only friend in this godforsaken city was using mind control on you?” Atlas asked, laughing.

“I think it says that we’ve both got some issues to work out,” Jack retorted. He relished hearing Atlas’ laugh; it was deep and comforting, and filled Jack with a sense of both safety and belonging. The man seemed weighted down by all that had happened to him, and Jack resolved to make Atlas laugh again.

“Mister Atlas!” One of the girls stood in the doorway, looking inside apprehensively at all the dingy medical equipment. “Dr. Tenenbaum wants to talk to you.”

Atlas rolled his eyes. “Aye, I’m coming,” he said, glancing at Jack. “Take it easy just in case, will ya?” he said before heading for Tenenbaum’s office.

Jack nodded, heading out into the main room where the girls were gathered, drawing with chalk on the floor or playing with shabby toys. They smiled when they saw him, and some whispered. He lowered himself down to sit on the floor in the midst of some of the girls.

“Why did you take the metal suit off?” one of them asked. “Did it not fit?”

Jack smiled and picked up a piece of yellow chalk, idly drawing on the ground. “I didn’t like wearing it, that’s all,” he said simply. The girls nodded, slowly warming to him and settling down more at ease. Jack looked around, through the large window into the office. Dr. Tenenbaum and Atlas seemed to be arguing about something. Jack frowned and set down the chalk, abandoning his drawing of a lighthouse.

“I’ve got a question,” he said, his voice lower in the hopes that they wouldn’t be overheard. “Have any of you met a girl named Cathy?” There had to be scores of girls with that name in Rapture, and Jack knew it was a long shot, but it would be worth it to repay Atlas for aiding him throughout all this. The man deserved to see his family, or at least know what happened to them. “Was a girl with that name ever here?”

The girls exchanged looks, thinking about it. “I don’t remember any Cathy here,” one of the older girls, about eight years old, said.

“Tell him, Brenda,” a girl said, whispering to her friend next to her. Jack turned his attention to the pair.

“I saw a girl with her mama when I was in the Drop a while ago,” Brenda said. “Her mama kept yelling at her and telling her to keep up. She kept looking at some posters on the wall,” Brenda continued, her childish lisp evident while she spoke. Jack remembered Brenda; he’d seen her in Neptune’s Bounty. She looked sicker than the others, perhaps because of how recently she’d started Tenenbaum’s deconditioning process.

“That might be who I’m looking for,” Jack said, smiling encouragingly at the children. “Where was she?”

“Pauper’s Drop!” another girl chimed in. “I know that place. I went there with Mr. Bubbles a lot before he—” she stopped, evidently remembering the end of her previous guardian. Some of the other girls held her hand and smiled sympathetically, while others glanced warily at him. Jack watched them for a moment, surprised by how mature they sometimes seemed. _No one gets to be a child for long in Rapture_ , he thought. His attention was arrested by escalated voices from the office. Jack looked up and through the window saw Atlas and Tenenbaum gesticulating wildly, as if arguing. He stood, uncertain what to do.

Some of the girls tittered between themselves. “That strange man is angry.” “Why is he here if he doesn’t like Dr. Tenenbaum?” “Is he your friend, Jack?”

“Yes, he’s my friend. I think we’re going to be leaving soon, though,” he informed the girls. Some of them pouted. Before any of them could say anything else, Atlas bounded out of the office.

“We’ve been given our marching orders,” Atlas informed him curtly.

Tenenbaum followed him out. “I will not allow you to stay here and say such things. You will go now. Jack may stay, of course, if he wishes.”

“I wouldn’t kid. God knows what sort of poking around she’d do inside you,” Atlas shot back.

Eager to end the argument, Jack moved over to Atlas, who was collecting their few belongings. It was mostly the things Jack had had with him in Point Prometheus: two heath kits, a little food, several different weapons, and a single syringe of EVE. “I’ll go with you,” Jack said. As much as he appreciated what Tenenbaum had done for him, he would rather stay with Atlas. Something about the man provided an almost magnetic attraction.

Jack said his goodbyes, took his share of their supplies and followed Atlas through the tunnels upward to where the train lines ran. “What did the two of you fight about?” Jack asked cautiously.

“Our ideologies,” Atlas said dryly. “I just want to find some place to fuckin’ sleep. You alright with that?”

* * *

 

They had settled in one of the abandoned Mercury Suites apartments, since they were close by and in the center of the city. Jack had led Atlas on a circuitous route through the district; he remembered from his visit a few days earlier which areas were too splicer-infested to be safe. Atlas had made no scruples about giving Jack the EVE hypo, and the small puncture wounds that littered the skin of Jack’s arm were nowhere to be found on Atlas. Despite the fact that the older man had taken two of Jack’s guns, Jack was still apprehensive about leading him into the lion’s den, so to speak. _After all that’s happened, I don’t want to lose him now_ , Jack thought.

When they’d reached the apartments, Atlas had advocated for settling down in the closest one. “They’re all the same, aren’t they? So long as it’s got a bed and some food that hasn’t rotted yet, I don’t care.”

“Suchong’s is flooded,” Jack pointed out. “And Tenenbaum’s…” he trailed off. It didn’t feel right, living somewhere that had once held someone they knew.

“That one, then?” Atlas suggested, pointing to another door off of the main courtyard.

Jack looked at the nameplate. _S. Cohen._ “No,” he said flatly. Atlas turned to him, unfamiliar with the hard note in the younger man’s voice. Jack grew more embarrassed, knowing that he was being irrational. _Cohen isn’t here,_ he thought to himself. “I don’t want to be anywhere near that bastard,” he muttered.

Atlas put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. The radio and security footage had been down the majority of the time Jack was in Fort Frolic, but the rumors he’d heard about Cohen put Atlas in no position to be kind to that lunatic. Whatever had happened, he didn’t want to make Jack relive it. “Right-o, kid. Let’s keep looking then.”

They had eventually settled in an apartment marked with the name _M. Dellahunt_. Neither of them recognized it, and so they made no qualms about moving in. They’d searched the place for traps and splicers, then barricaded the door with a desk and bookshelf.

In the kitchen, Atlas sat on a counter, his legs dangling several inches above the floor. He whistled, looking around. “Christ, these places are swanky, aren’t they?” Atlas said. In normal circumstances, when Rapture had been in its heyday, he wouldn’t have been allowed to set foot in a district like Olympus Heights, unless it was as the help. He pulled some of their food out of the bag he’d taken from Tenenbaum’s place and threw Jack a can. “I’ve gotta hand it to Ryan, he sure knew how to keep the elite happy.” Realizing he had no way to open the can, Atlas sighed and set it down.

“Here, let me,” Jack said, taking it from him. He held his left hand over it then made a twisting motion. Atlas watched as Jack’s eyes glowed ever so slightly. The metal of the can crunched, and the lid came off.

“Christ…” Atlas muttered, taking the can back and marveling at Jack’s use of plasmids. “You sure are handy with those things.”

“You’ve never done it?” Jack asked, opening his own can. Thankfully, it was fruit inside, something he didn’t mind eating cold.

“Nah. Plasmids aren’t my game. Mostly because Fontaine was the one makin’ ‘em, but also because of…y’know. Them splicers aren’t exactly a ringing endorsement. Things went real bad real quick. From the start, a lot of people had their doubts.” Atlas shuddered.

Jack paused, leaning up against the counter pensively. “How long does it take before somebody turns into one of them?” he asked after a moment.

“Dunno. Probably depends on how much you use them,” Atlas said. He looked down at Jack. “Don’t you worry, boyo. If you start getting too spliced up, I’ll be sure to slap some sense into you.” The two men chuckled at that, each of them pushing away the thoughts of what would really happen in that situation.

“So…do you have a plan or anything?” Jack asked after a while, in between mouthfuls of sliced pears. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, we’ve still got people down here. Ones that haven’t become completely bloodthirsty. I suppose I’d like to set things right with them, and go about helpin’ people like I used to.”

Jack nodded. Rapture was a large city, and the remaining population was widely dispersed. It would take some time to get everyone united again.

The two talked logistics for a while; what they’d do for those who wanted help. They discussed vague plans for a communal living situation or, if that didn’t work, rigging up a submarine to take people back to the surface. One of Ryan’s biggest rules was that no one left Rapture after arriving, but Ryan was no longer running the show. There was a lot to talk about, not only concerning the future, but the past. Atlas, however, soon began to show signs of just how tired he was. He hadn’t slept well while Jack had been in recovery at Tenenbaum’s; mostly he’d spent his time searching nearby places for food and supplies. Eventually, they decided to retire for the night.

“There only seems to be one bed,” Jack informed Atlas. “Apparently Dellahunt didn’t have a family. You take it, I’m not that tired.”

“You will be in the morning if you don’t sleep,” Atlas pointed out. “I’ve got no qualms about sharing. I sleep like a rock,” he said with a chuckle.

In the bedroom, they both set down their weapons within reach and got into bed fully dressed, mindful of the fact that some emergency might arise. Jack, who had been knocked out for much of the previous three days, had a harder time falling asleep than Atlas. He thought about Pauper’s Drop, and how he could convince Atlas to accompany him there. _First I’ll need to find out if his family really is living there. If they’re living at all_ , he thought. There was so much uncertainty, and so much to be done. Atlas mumbled in his sleep, and Jack smiled. The man was a good companion as well as a good partner. _You’re going to see your family again, Atlas. I owe you that much._

* * *

 

A few days passed with the two of them venturing out into other districts of the city to search for survivors. They tried as best they could to get the word out: that Atlas had been kidnapped by Fontaine, but that both Ryan and Fontaine were now dead. No one was in charge of Rapture anymore, technically. They talked with others about plans for the future, but most people had lost hope. The general consensus was that Rapture was dead, and in order to not die with it, people needed to get back to the surface. Atlas and Jack, along with a few engineers they’d met in Apollo Square, began looking into finding a suitable Bathysphere or submarine.

Jack had, meanwhile, been surreptitiously asking around about Atlas’ family. The two men would split up occasionally to save time, despite the dangers of going alone. Each promised to be careful, and each felt their stomach sink when the other returned with a new wound. Jack learned that Cathy and Marie, Atlas’ wife, were indeed living in Pauper’s Drop, in a sort of impromptu women’s shelter.

The two men had yet to travel that far out, and Jack resolved to broach the topic with Atlas soon. Upon returning home, Jack found Atlas sitting on the battered sofa, drinking whiskey from the bottle and staring down at a map of Rapture they’d found among Dellahunt’s books. “Hey there, boyo,” Atlas greeted him. Jack smiled, setting down the bandages and EVE hypos he’d managed to collect. “What’s the news?”

“Only people I saw were three splicers, taking their gibberish like usual,” Jack reported. “I’ve been thinking, though,” he began carefully. Atlas looked up at him attentively. “I’ve heard of some people living down south, a place called Pauper’s Drop. You know anything about it?”

“Yeah. It’s an old shantytown, never meant for permanent housing. You think we ought to go check it out?” He turned back to the map, trying to locate the place. “It’s far, but the Atlantic Express is still working. Wouldn’t be too bad,” he mused. They decided to make the journey the next day, and the evening passed quickly with their preparations.

The two had fallen into a comfortable routine together, and neither of them batted an eye at sharing a bed any longer, especially with the heating only working sporadically now that Hephaestus was mostly destroyed. Atlas lay on his side, having been the first to fall asleep, as usual. Jack was mulling his plan over in his brain, thinking about when would be the right time to tell Atlas his primary reason for going to Pauper’s Drop. He didn’t want Atlas to get cold feet, but at the same time Jack knew it was dishonest to keep the secret from him. He trusted that, after their first meeting, Atlas wouldn’t lie or keep him in the dark if there was a way around it, and Jack wanted to do the same. While he was considering all this, he heard the other man mumble in his sleep. Jack glanced over to see Atlas’ face creased with worry, as if having a nightmare again.

The incoherent mumbling grew more and more frantic until Atlas awoke with a scream. He jolted, his heart racing a thousand miles an hour, pumping panic through his veins. _Please don’t hurt me anymore. Don’t leave me in that tiny fucking cage, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe in here, someone help me—_

“Atlas” Jack said, trying to call the man back to reality. “You’re safe, you’re safe here, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe with me, Atlas.” Jack kept repeating the same phrases, unsure of what he could say, or what Atlas needed to hear. He sat up alongside him, taking one of Atlas’ hands in his, trying to balance comforting the man with giving him space.

Atlas squeezed Jack’s hand, trying to ground himself in the present. Jack’s voice echoed in his head, and he let the words sink in. He was safe. Finally, the panic attack subsided, and Atlas turned to the young man, still feeling fragile. Without speaking, Atlas leaned in and buried his face in Jack’s shoulder, trying to force his heart rate down. “I— I can’t do this, Jack,” he whispered.

Jack wrapped his arms around the other man instinctively. “It’ll all be alright,” he said gently. He, too, was slightly shaken now; he’d never expected to see Atlas so vulnerable. _It’s to be expected, with all he’s been through_.

“How? How the fuckin’ hell will it be alright, how can I fix things?” Atlas demanded, shaking his head as he pulled away slightly to look at Jack, a wealth of shame in his eyes. “I had people countin’ on me, and I failed them! I wanted to help people, help this whole bloody city, and I couldn’t. Now everybody’s turned on me. You see them, the looks in peoples’ eyes when I tell ‘em what happened! Fontaine’s men came in and took me, and I couldn’t even do anything. How can I help others when I couldn’t help myself? …You seen all those signs asking ‘who is Atlas?’ Well I’ll tell ya who he is: some washed up old bastard who was never strong enough to stand up for what he believed in. I let my people down, kid. My family, my city, _you._ What sort of lunatic do you have to be to keep goin’ along with me? What _good_ am I to anyone now?” Atlas’ voice got more and more frantic, and tears began welling up in his eyes. Jack remained where he was, holding onto him and listening, an ache developing in his chest.

“Atlas, you surely can’t blame yourself for what Fontaine did to you,” Jack began softly.

“Can’t I? Would he have been able to push me around like that if I had been more careful? Gotten better security, been handier with a gun?”

“Listen to me,” Jack insisted. “When I arrived here, I had no memories, no idea what I was walking into. All I knew was that I wanted to follow the man on the radio. I relied on you for help, and you got me through safely.”

“Kid, I was controlling your mind!” Atlas interjected.

“You told me what to do, to get to Ryan and kill him. You didn’t _tell_ me to find solace in your words, and to consider finding you my only goal for the end of that road. I did that on my own. And when I found out you were in trouble, it wasn’t revenge that made me want to kill Fontaine. It was the thought of him hurting you. I wanted you safe, I still do, because I care about you. You have done wonders for the people here. I know it may not look like that now, but you give people something to believe in. I believe in you. Do me a favor and believe in yourself.”

Atlas stared at him, tears drying on his cheeks and hands clutching the wool of Jack’s sweater. He took a deep breath, collecting himself, and nodded. “Thanks,” he said quietly, relaxing a tension throughout his body he hadn’t noticed until now.

Jack smiled softly and lay back down, guiding Atlas down next to him. “Get some sleep,” he advised. Atlas settled down beside him, staying close. Jack kept his arm around the other man, unwilling to let him go just yet. The two of them fell asleep entwined.

* * *

 

“About last night,” Atlas began. It was the next day, and the two of them were on their way to the train station, heading for Pauper’s Drop. “I’m sorry about all that. I’m a grown man, I should be able to handle myself better than that,” he said, running a hand through his blond hair with chagrin.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said as he climbed the stairs to the station. “And, by the way, I meant those things I said. About believing in you,” he looked at Atlas sincerely, smiling a little.

They managed to get into the station and into an abandoned train car. Atlas stood at the controls, doing all he could to start the thing up. “Fuckin’ thing’s dead,” he said bitterly. “We’ll have to walk.”

“Let me try,” Jack said. Atlas stepped back as Jack shot a jolt of blue lightening at the control panel. Lights turned on and the car began to move. “Apparently it just needed a jump,” he said sheepishly while Atlas looked at him in admiration.

“Christ. Where would I be without you, kid?” he asked with a chuckle. He pushed away the thought of where he _actually_ would be: trapped by Fontaine, being forced to be an accomplice to all his plans. The two sat down for the journey. Jack was talking, but Atlas’ mind was far away, thinking of how grateful he was to the younger man. Since last night, he could think of nothing but how glad he was to be with Jack now, to have someone to work with, protect, and care about. _It’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve had anyone like that_ , Atlas mused. Somehow, his heart felt so full that he thought it would burst.

“…and when I got there, I—hey, are you even listening?” Jack asked with a laugh.

Atlas turned to him, trying not to think and just act on what he was feeling. He put his hand on Jack’s cheek, turning the other man’s face toward himself, and kissed him.

Jack froze. _What is going on? What is he doing?_ Thoughts flashed through his brain, and before he had time to react, Atlas had pulled away. Seeing the nervousness written all over Atlas’ face, Jack felt a stab of regret that he hadn’t reciprocated the gesture.

“Sorry. I’ve just been thinkin’ lately, about how much you’ve done for me and all, and I…” Atlas’ face felt like it was on fire, and he knew he must be blushing furiously. “I don’t know why I did that,” he mumbled, angry at himself for his own stupidity.

“No, don’t be, I just…was not expecting that,” Jack said honestly. He struggled to find words; how the hell could he respond to that? He wanted to pull Atlas back into a kiss, partly to wipe the embarrassment off the other man’s face and partly because he understood exactly what Atlas meant. Atlas had gotten Jack through everything, and hadn’t left his side while he was at Tenenbaum’s. Atlas meant the world to him, and was all he had. But Atlas had a family. The subway car rattled along as the two sat in silence, each thinking his own thoughts. Then, Jack reached out and covered Atlas’ hand with his own. The older man looked at him, afraid to infer any meaning from the gesture in case he, again, misread things. Jack opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. He wanted to tell Atlas exactly how he felt; how much he depended on him and respected him, how he would never be able to do this alone, how much he’d grown to love him. Instead, all he said was, “You have a family, Atlas.”

Atlas gave a mirthless laugh and shook his head. “I doubt it. They’re dead. Or worse.”

“They’re alive,” Jack informed him quietly. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to reveal the situation to him, but there didn’t seem to be much choice. “I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you, but…that’s why I wanted to go to Pauper’s Drop. That’s where they are.” He braced himself, hoping that Atlas wouldn’t be too cross with him. “I’m sorry, I know I should have told you earlier, and I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to do all this, but I thought you deserved to see them and—” he noticed that Atlas wasn’t even paying attention. He was staring at the floor, lost in thought, and he’d moved his hand away from Jack’s.

“They’re alive?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Jack replied.

Atlas ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought. The two of them remained quiet for the rest of the journey, which to Jack’s relief wasn’t that much longer. He couldn’t read Atlas’ reaction, but he hoped the man’s silence had more to do with surprise than anger. When the car lurched to a stop, the two got out and headed for the square.

Gathering up his courage, Jack said quietly, “You don’t have to go see them. They don’t know we’ll be here.”

Atlas looked at him for the first time since he’d heard the news. “Might as well. It’s just a lot to take in all of a sudden,” he said with a sigh. “And…could ya do me a favor and not tell Marie what I did back there?” he asked, his cheeks turning rosy.

“Right. Of course,” Jack said, wondering just what sort of reunion Atlas and Marie would have. He forced the thought out of his mind when he felt a slight pang of jealousy. Atlas was all Jack had, but the other man had options, much better ones.

Down in Pauper’s Drop they did their usual routine, disseminating information to any citizens they found about the resurfacing program. It was already underway: the engineers they’d contacted had been able to find a submarine and were preparing to transport the first group to the surface. After answering peoples’ questions and telling them about the logistics, Jack tentatively asked a woman whether or not she knew of the shelter.

“Oh, of course. It’s downtown, near the old Hamilton building. I imagine they’d all be keen to get back up to the surface as well,” she said.

Jack hadn’t bothered to explain the exact reason for the question, but thanked her just the same. He and Atlas made their way there. As they walked, Atlas looked around, still seeming lost in his own thoughts. “Places like this are why Rapture could never have succeeded,” he said eventually. “Wherever you’ve got slums like this, where the poor make their own community, you’re going to have unrest and hatred for the upper class. And this was bound to happen in a society of unregulated free market. You’re bound for hell when your whole economy is based on not helpin’ people.”

Unsure of what to say, Jack just nodded. It ate at him, how unreadable Atlas was being. He would almost prefer anger. Atlas knocked on the door to the building when they reached it, and an older woman answered. “Hello,” he said, barely biting back his nervousness. It had been nearly a year since he’d seen Marie and Cathy; what would they think of him showing up out of the blue? “I’m here to see someone. Marie?”

The pair were let in and told to wait in the parlor. “Do you want me to go?” Jack asked, wanting to give Atlas his space if he needed it.

“No,” the other man said instantly. He turned to Jack, smiling sheepishly. “I’d rather have you here. Everyone’s more polite around strangers, aren’t they?” Hearing footsteps in the corridor, Atlas stood from the sofa and waited anxiously.

Marie appeared in the doorway. She stopped in her tracks upon seeing Atlas, disbelief spreading over her face. “You’re here,” she whispered.

“Hello,” Atlas said. “I’m sorry for dropping by so unexpectedly. Can we… Can we talk?” Marie took a seat on the other sofa, opposite Jack. Atlas sat down as well. “This is my friend Jack. He’s…well, it’s a long story, but he’s the one who did in Ryan and Fontaine.” Marie stared at the pair of them, the confusion still in her features.

It took a while for Atlas to explain the whole story, and Marie had a hundred questions about the unbelievable adventure. While they talked, Jack got the impression that Marie didn’t quite trust Atlas. He tried not to be too involved in their reunion, however, and didn’t say much.

“All of this is crazy. Fontaine kept you locked up for months, and somehow hypnotized this guy?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and it sounds insane because _it is_. Fontaine was a lunatic. But all of that is cleared up. He told everyone that I had abandoned Rapture, but I haven’t. Jack and I are working on getting people out, back to the surface.”

Marie shook her head, still processing the wild story. “You always did have big dreams,” she muttered.

“Well I’m sure as hell not content with dying down here. I want to leave, see the sun again, give our daughter a good life,” Atlas insisted. Marie tensed at the mention of Cathy, an action which didn’t escape Atlas’ notice. “Is she here?” he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t think it would be good for her to see you. Do you know how hard it was to tell her you weren’t coming back? Every time we pass one of those damn ‘Atlas’ posters, she asks about you,” Marie said bitterly. “And besides, she’s asleep.”

“You didn’t have to tell her I wasn’t coming back, _I_ wasn’t the one who left,” Atlas pointed out cuttingly.

“Well you didn’t give us much of a choice,” Marie shot back. “Do you really think it was safe to keep a five year old kid around while you were playing revolutionary? What would have happened if we’d been there when Fontaine’s men stormed the place? Did you ever think of that?”

“Yes. Look, I understand why we can’t live together, but does she really have to think I deserted her?”

“Atlas,” Jack said quietly, pointing to the doorway behind Marie. A young girl stood there, looking groggy.

Atlas shot up from the sofa and crossed the room, crouching down before her. “Hey there, Cathy,” he said with a smile. “Did we wake you up?”

Cathy looked at him, taking a moment to register who the man was. “Daddy!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. Atlas hugged her, tears of happiness forming in his eyes. “Mama didn’t say you were coming back today,” she said against his shoulder.

“It was a surprise,” Atlas said, pulling away and smiling at her.

“Where did you go? Were you away helping people?”

Atlas laughed a little, relief flooding his chest as he saw his daughter safe and happy. “I was tryin’ my best, darling. Here, I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” Atlas straightened up and took her hand, leading her over to the sofa. “This is my friend Jack. The two of us have been working together this past while.”

“Hello,” Cathy said, clinging to her father but watching Jack intently.

Jack smiled at her, seeing Atlas’ features clearly reflected in her face. She seemed so different from the Little Sisters he’d met previously. “Hello.”

“Will you let my dad stay with me and mama from now on?” At her question, Jack looked uneasily up at Atlas, unsure of how to respond.

“He’s not the one that’s been keepin’ me away, love,” Atlas explained. “I just…had some other business to take care of lately. But now that that’s all over, I should be able—”

“Cathy, can you go to your room for a little, please? I need to talk to your dad,” Marie interrupted. Atlas looked dismayed, but Cathy evidently knew better than to go against her mother’s orders. “Could you leave us for a minute as well?” Marie asked, looking at Jack.

Cathy brightened up at that. “Can I show him my room, mama?” she asked.

“If he wants to go with you,” Marie said, looking at Jack.

“Sure thing. Lead the way,” Jack said, standing up. Atlas smiled at him, glad that the younger man was willing to humor his daughter. Cathy led him down a corridor and into a sparsely furnished room with a dim, bare lightbulb.

“I got my own bedroom now, since Miss Adeline left last week. There’s not very many people here like there used to be,” Cathy informed him. “You can sit there,” she said, pointing to the bed. Jack followed her orders and watched as she opened the dresser and pulled out a book. “This is a book my daddy used to read to me,” she said, sitting beside Jack, “but now I learned how to read it by myself, since he wasn’t here.” She set the book on her lap. It was a book originally published in Rapture. Jack knew the type; propaganda in disguise spread by Ryan. He couldn’t imagine Atlas much liking the story.

“Do you miss your dad, Cathy?” Jack asked her.

The little girl nodded. “Yes. But he’s helping people who need him, like he always does. He always told me that Rapture would be a lot better if more people helped each other. Did he help you?”

“Yes, he did,” Jack told her. “I was really confused and scared when I first came here, but your dad helped me…find where I was going,” Jack explained, deciding not to mention exactly what he’d done.

“Are you and him gonna come live with us now?”

Jack hesitated. Clearly Marie didn’t want to give Cathy false hope about what was going on, but Jack didn’t want to tell her that Atlas was too busy to see her. “I’m not sure. It all depends.”

“On what?”

“Well, on where your dad thinks he can do the most good.”

As Jack spoke, the ceiling light above them began flickering. Cathy looked up at it and frowned. “All of the lights do that sometimes,” she informed him with a sigh.

“I think I can fix it,” Jack said. “Watch this.” He raised his left hand and shot a small bolt of blue electricity at the bulb. As the light stopped flickering, Cathy screamed.

“Mama!” she cried, jumping up and running out the door down the hall. “Mama, mama!”

Jack stood, confused about what had happened. He heard the family talking in the main room, then hurried footsteps as they came to investigate. Cathy held Atlas’s hand and hid behind him in the doorway, now afraid of Jack.

“What’s goin’ on, boyo?” Atlas asked him, hoping he hadn’t been wrong in his assumption that Jack would never hurt his daughter.

“I’m sorry, the light was flickering, I just wanted to fix it…” Jack said, lifting his hand a little to illustrate what he meant.

Cathy whimpered, and realization dawned on Atlas’ face. He turned to his daughter. “It’s alright, sweetheart, he’s not gonna hurt you.”

“She’s never seen anyone who wasn’t a splicer using plasmids,” Marie explained flatly. “And as a matter of fact, I’ve seen precious few.”

“Marie, you know he isn’t like them, look at him,” Atlas said.

“I’m sorry, Cathy. I didn’t know you’d be scared,” Jack apologized to her earnestly, putting his hands behind his back. He felt incredibly embarrassed for causing so much trouble and hoped that Atlas didn’t consider him to be ruining things.

“This is what I mean,” Marie sighed, shaking his head. “This is exactly the sort of thing I don’t want happening.”

Atlas’ face fell. He looked more defeated than Jack had ever seen him. “Right then. But keep in mind what I said, won’t you? About leaving? Get yourselves out of here. Take Cathy someplace where there’s sunlight.” He turned back to Cathy, crouching down to speak at her level. “I’ve got to go now, sweetheart,” he told her.

She pouted. “Why? You only just got here.”

“I know. But it’s just for the best if I go away again,” Atlas said, trying to disguise the fact that he was at a complete loss.

“Will you come back?” Cathy asked dejectedly.

“Of course,” Atlas said, his tone brightening. He didn’t want to leave her on a sad note. “You really think you can get rid of me that easily? I’ll be back before you know it.” The two hugged, and the traces of sadness mostly left Cathy’s face. “I love you. You be good, okay?”

Atlas finished his goodbyes to his family, and Jack politely took his leave as well, still feeling awkward. The two of them walked back out into the square, Atlas brooding and Jack hesitant to disturb him. He was conscious of the fact that whatever Atlas was feeling now—all the disappointment, sorrow, and loss—was his fault. Jack knew that he couldn’t have possibly foreseen how things would go between Atlas and Marie, but he still felt culpable. They reached the Atlantic Express station and resumed the car they’d arrived in. After starting it up in the direction of Olympus Heights, towards the heart of Rapture, Jack turned to his friend.

“Atlas…I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back and planned all this. I had no idea—”

“No, I’m glad you did,” Atlas interrupted him with a smile. “Thanks to you I got to see my kid again.”

Jack was somewhat at a loss for words. “But…you and Marie…”

“She and I…it’s complicated. We haven’t seen eye to eye on most things lately—before she left, that is. She doesn’t want me around, thinks I’ll bring trouble. Which…I can’t blame her for. I’m thinkin’ this is what’s right for us. Splittin’ up. She’ll raise Cathy right, and I’ll do what I can to help people get back to the surface where they belong, out of this hellhole. Maybe we can hash things out again later, once we’re out there,” he said with a shrug.

Jack’s brow furrowed slightly as he regarded Atlas. The other man was difficult to read. Atlas had horrible nightmares and more survivor’s guilt than anyone deserved, and yet here he was, brushing off the fact that his wife had effectively banned him from seeing his family. Jack wondered if this was just bravado, and if so, what the _point_ of it was. “Are you going to try to stay in touch with them?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I’d like to, at least with Cathy. I don’t think Marie and I would be able to fix things if we tried. And I’m not sure it would be worth it to try,” Atlas said with a sigh.

“I think you should, though,” Jack said hesitantly. He hated the thought of Atlas’ family dissolving like that.

Atlas raised an eyebrow at him. “Sometimes marriage shouldn’t be ‘until death do you part,’ boyo.”

“I hate to see you giving up on your family, though,” Jack said quietly.

Atlas bristled at that. “Look here, I’m not ‘giving up’ on them,” he asserted. “I wouldn’t expect you to get it, considering the closest you’ve had to a family is some false memory implanted in your skull,” he said scathingly. His irritation at the entire situation allowed him to ignore just how cutting his remark was.

Jack was taken aback, unused to hearing his friend be so cruel. “Maybe that’s why I don’t consider family to be a disposable commodity,” he shot back defensively. “And I _do_ have a family. All those little girls at Tenenbaum’s _are_ like my sisters. We were created in nearly the same way, and—”

“They’re _not_ your family,” Atlas insisted, standing from his seat in the subway car. Jack had touched a nerve, he could tell from the way Atlas’ eyes lit up. It was an anger that Jack hadn’t seen Atlas express before, and it was all the more startling to see it directed at himself. “You think that just because some lunatic woman performed experiments on all of you, you’ve got some kind of connection? Those kids _belong_ to people! Those are somebody’s daughters she’s kidnapped! They’ve got families of their own, and it sure as hell doesn’t include the likes of Tenenbaum and some freakshow like _you._ ”

Jack would rather have fought Fontaine again, would rather relive his first plasmid injection, would rather return to Fort Frolic and work for Sander Cohen than hear Atlas, the only person in Rapture he considered his friend, say these sorts of things. “You obviously didn’t consider me a freak earlier, when you were trying to kiss me,” Jack retorted, balling his hands into fists at his sides. The station where they’d begun their journey that morning entered into view as Atlas gave him a rough shove, making Jack stumble backwards.

“Don’t you ever bring up that _mistake_ again, you hear me?” Atlas warned him, his voice low as a blush spread over his cheeks. The car came to a stop and Atlas wasted no time storming out, heading in the opposite direction from the apartment they’d claimed.

Jack’s throat felt constricted as he debated whether or not to follow Atlas and give him a piece of his mind. However, Jack was reasonable enough to know that the both of them probably needed some distance from each other now. Going after the other man would only result in an escalation of their fight, and it was pointless to waste energy on fighting an ally.

Jack headed back to Dellahunt’s apartment, fuming and half wishing he’d meet a splicer just so he could take his anger out on something. When he arrived back home, he sat himself down on the sofa, thinking over everything. _God, it’s my fault. He’s angry with me, and it’s my fault, I should have known this was a bad idea, god I’m so stupid. He’ right, I am a freak._

* * *

 

Several hours passed, and still no sign of Atlas. Jack did his best not to worry about him. He’d decided that Atlas would come home when he wanted; if Jack didn’t hear from him, he’d just continue with the resurfacing program on his own. He ventured out of the apartment, in keeping with their established supply-gathering schedule. Near Apollo Square, Jack heard familiar heavy footsteps and a happy, sing-song voice. Atlas’ words echoed in Jack’s head, _they’re not your family_. That same anger he’d felt then resurfaced, pumping adrenaline through him. Jack braced himself for a fight, determined to help the child.

He hated hearing them scream. While Jack fired bolts of blue lightning and armor-piercing machine gun rounds, the little girl shrieked encouragement to her protector. Upon seeing him fall, Jack heard her voice take on a note of desperation.

“Wake up, Mr. Bubbles, please!”

It made Jack’s heart ache, for some reason. He reached out for the girl, ignoring her struggling. “It’s okay, I’m here to help you,” he said as he raised his hand to her forehead. He wasn’t sure if his words got through to her, but after the bright light subsided, the girl blinked and looked up at him, confused. “What’s your name?” Jack asked her.

“Sandy,” she said timidly.

Jack was, by now, accustomed to their confusion after being rescued. He instructed her to go back to Tenenbaum’s, telling her she’d get help there. He escorted her to a vent and she obediently crawled inside. As she disappeared, Jack heard the sounds of a far-off scuffle. _Probably just some splicers fighting over food,_ he thought. He was about to direct his steps in the opposite direction when he heard a voice shouting, one much clearer than the usual bloodthirsty shrieks of splicers, and one that sounded familiar.

Jack ran towards the sounds of fighting, preparing himself to join the battle. As he expected, Atlas was there, but he wasn’t doing very well. He’d been shot.

“Fuck, fuck,” Atlas swore under his breath. He pressed the flat of his palm to his thigh, trying to ignore the fact that a chunk of it was gone as he fired his handgun with his free hand. The approaching footsteps didn’t register to him. He saw one of the splicers who’d ganged up on him get hit with some sort of gelatinous projectile and begin to attack her fellow monsters. Startled, Atlas looked over and saw Jack, holding a gun and shooting the splicers while they attacked each other. Within seconds, all three splicers had fallen, and Jack stood near him, blood splattered on his sweater. “You...you’ve got—” Atlas stammered, swaying on his feet. He looked down at his leg, which was soaked by now. “It won’t stop,” he said quietly. Then his legs failed him, and he lost consciousness.

* * *

 

Atlas dreamt of home. Of his real home, in Ireland, when he and Marie had first moved in together. The white house at the end of the street with the gate that creaked on its hinges. The blue curtains in the kitchen windows, and the second-hand furniture that they’d found to make the place a real home. _Their_ home. Only, in his dream, when he entered the house it wasn’t Marie standing there to greet him. It was Jack.

When he awoke, it took him a moment to register that he wasn’t back there, that he was, in fact, miles below the ocean in the Mercury Suites apartment. As he lay in the middle of the bed, Atlas looked around and noticed Jack sitting on the floor, leaning up against the bed, asleep as well. Evidently the exhausted young man had been unwilling to leave his side. Atlas smiled, feeling a pang of guilt for everything he’d said to Jack. Even after all that, the other man had still taken him home and, Atlas noticed, bandaged up his leg. Atlas shifted a little, taking stock of his injuries, and groaned as pain shot through him.

Jack, trained to be a light sleeper, awoke at this, blearily looking up at Atlas lying on the mattress just to his left. “How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m fine. Outta the woods, thanks to you,” Atlas said sheepishly. Jack stood up, and Atlas tried to push himself up into a sitting position to get himself on a similar level.

The two looked at each other, neither sure what to say, both ashamed of how they’d behaved earlier. Jack was the first to speak. “I’m really sorry about…everything,” he muttered, his heart sunken in his chest as he decided not to enumerate all the things he blamed himself for.

“Don’t be. I was the one acting like a jackass back there,” Atlas said. “I shouldn’t have said all those things I did. I was just upset about the stuff with Marie.”

Jack nodded, hesitantly sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You were right though. I don’t understand what you’re going through. I don’t have a wife or kid like you do.”

Atlas sat up a little more, moving closer to Jack. “That’s not all family is, boyo. Family don’t have to be blood relations, they’re just...people who are kind to you—care about you and protect you,” he pointed out. Jack turned to him, and Atlas offered a smile. “And so the way I see it… Never mind.” He shook his head, laughing a little to hide his embarrassment.

“No, tell me,” Jack insisted, glad that Atlas was speaking civilly to him again. He hoped that this would be their last fight. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if Atlas had really abandoned him.

“Well, I was thinkin’ that…you’re kinda like family to me,” Atlas said, nervously looking up at Jack. A look of surprise spread over the other man’s face, and Atlas’ embarrassment came flooding back. “I mean, just in the sense that you’re always lookin’ out for me, and gettin’ me out o’ scrapes like this,” he said quickly, gesturing to his leg with embarrassment. “You—well, I’d say I trust you more than I trust anybody, and trust is one of those things that’s come to mean a lot to me.”

“I’m…I’m glad,” Jack said, looking down at the carpet instead of at the other man. Atlas was silent and dejected, figuring he’d made Jack uncomfortable. Jack broke the silence eventually. “I’ve been thinking as well,” he said. “I want to leave Rapture.”

Atlas nodded. “We will, boyo, I promise. Now that we’ve rigged up the Bathyspheres to work again, we can be out of here soon. We’ve just got to spread the word so others can get out o’ this nightmare, too.”

Jack nodded, turning back to stare at the carpet. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he wrung his hands. “Yeah. But the thing is, I haven’t got anywhere to go. I mean, I’ve got those memories of that farm in Kansas, and those people there, my mother and father, but…they’re not real,” he said quietly. It somehow hurt to think about it. The memories were _there_ , he could picture the house, but when he tried to think of any details, the picture just…dissolved.

Reaching out to him, Atlas put a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that. I won’t leave you hangin’ in the wind. You can live with me for as long as you can stand it,” he said with a smile. The expression quickly faded and he pulled his hand away from Jack. “If that’s what you want, I mean,” he added hastily.

Jack’s face lit up. It was like Atlas had read his mind. He was glad he hadn’t had to ask the question himself. “Of course it is,” he said enthusiastically as he unconsciously reached out and took Atlas’ hand in his own. Upon seeing Atlas’ look of surprise, Jack made to pull away. However, Atlas stopped him, giving the other man’s hand a squeeze.

“I hope we’re not gonna keep fightin’ whatever’s between us,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry if I was outta line earlier, but I’m fairly certain you’re feeling it too, so…” Atlas trailed off, looking at Jack with vulnerability and anticipation in his eyes. It made Jack think of Atlas’ nightmare, and how the man had clung to him.

Words failed Jack. Hundreds of thoughts buzzed through his head, hundreds of questions and impediments but above it all, louder than all the rest, was desire. He wanted to make Atlas happy, wanted to be with him, safe and sound away from all this insanity. He wanted to be able to not have to instantly pull away whenever their hands accidentally brushed one another. He wanted the look of apprehension to leave Atlas’ face, and for the other man to never again doubt his feelings. Wordlessly, Jack leaned in and kissed Atlas. For once, something in Rapture felt right, and it was being here, with him.

“I guess that’s a pretty definitive answer,” Atlas chuckled as the two separated. He smiled tenderly at Jack. “I know we’ve got loads of work left to do here, and it’s not gonna be a picnic adjusting to life on the surface, but I want to be with you for all of it. And I know in your eyes I must not have the most sterling reputation for fidelity, but—”

“Atlas,” Jack interrupted. “It’s alright. I know all that. I know how you feel. I love you too,” Jack said earnestly. He smiled at the other man. “Now, shut up and kiss me again, would you kindly?”


End file.
